


Conspiracy to Rescue

by DemonMamoru



Series: The Most Memorable Tale of the Intergalactic Liberation Front [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Action, F/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Rape, Rescue, Romance, Slavery, lemons in later chapters, mentions of abuse, rating will change as needed, sensitive topics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonMamoru/pseuds/DemonMamoru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to another story. Reading this will give you background information of what's going on. Reading this isn't necessary to understanding that story that will be posted after this one, but it explains a few things in greater detail. </p><p>This is Torbin Zixx, Traximus, and another mysterious person making preparations to rescue a girl trapped in slavery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second TMNT story that I've started, and I'm still working on 'The Mechanic and The Vigilante' I've just got a bad case of writers block and so it's been slow going. Also, life has been getting in the way of my time for writing. I should have the second chapter of this also posted today. This prequel will only be two chapters long, and then the real story will start!
> 
> If you see any spelling errors or grammar errors, feel free to tell me so that I may change it, but I'm pretty sure there aren't any because I've had a beta reader, and I've gone over this chapter three times myself. :) 
> 
> Please enjoy.

Finally, the freedom fighters that stood against the Triceraton Republic had won. Mainly due to the efforts of one Triceraton, Traximus. He had recruited all aliens and allies that he could find, extending feelers through back-water planets and moons to find others able to help. It was a blessing of some unknown deity that had him happen upon a member of the ILF, otherwise known as the Intergalactic Liberation Front. The person’s name, was Torbin Zixx. 

Zixx was one of their intel agents, mostly dealing with smuggling, sabotage, and a jack-of-all-trades spy. Zixx also did other free-lance work too, on a more personal agenda, but had never betrayed the ILF, so they allowed him to continue in his own pursuits. Zixx was infuriating, but also straightforward. Zixx had explained the rules of the ILF clearly, once help was given by ILF, they expected help from the people that they had given it to. As the ILF was a freedom-fighting organization, new recruits extended their reach, granting them greater access to resources, new planets, and new people. Often, it was because of the new allies they made that allowed them to get so far in the first place. New technologies often allowed them victory in places that they couldn’t make a dent in. New fighters meant additional troops to fight off a tyrant on some other planet that they were trying to free.

All in all, the system ILF had in place was a good one. They didn’t ask you to fight, die, or be loyal exclusively to them. All they asked was that you help them in return, be it running shipments to planets, sending potential recruits to them, or just finding some basic intel for them. However, Traximus wanted to join, after talking with Zixx, he got to meet with a higher up in charge of operations in the solar system where Earth was located. 

After Traximus had succeeded in freeing his people, it came time for him to repay the ILF. He had helped construct the new government of the Tricreratons by researching other regimes of many other planets, using a database the ILF had happily provided. He discussed several kinds of operations with others of his race, until they agreed on a system, and helped to put it in place. By the time that he had gone back to the ILF, his people were looking at a government that would benefit them far more than the old one did, and would fare better than many other systems that other planets had in place. 

He had been working with the Front for the past several months (assuming you needed time translated into earth units) and now he was on a vacation. Well, that was only like half true. He was on vacation, but he needed to be, for the spec op mission that the ILF had assigned him. 

Actually, it turned out that the ILF owed a contact a lot of favors, and now he was calling in one. Part of the problem was that the planet that the contact lived depended a lot on the tourist industry, which meant that they were a lot of easy marks for criminals. But what made up such a large part of the revenue that served as a majority of the planet’s income was the underground slave trade. The slave trade wasn’t underground, people who lived on Andrellion 5 knew about it. 

However, it wasn’t something that people actively tried to stop or keep going. The gangs and mob bosses had too much control over the major cities and crime rings. It would take a force from off planet to create major change in the way things were run. That’s where the ILF came in. They would be capable of changing Andrellion 5, but it would require careful timing. 

…Aaand the contact on Andrellion 5 had sworn to let the gangs know that the ILF was coming, unless they got some girl off-planet. It wasn’t that big of a deal to do so, but it would slow down the operation of converting the planet into a batter one. To postpone an operation for one person…put a hold on things, to say the least. But the ILF could deal with it, after Traximus had volunteered to do it on his vacation time.

The mission to get the girl had to be off the record too, unofficial. As most things spec ops went. Traximus on his vacation time would mean that anything he did wouldn’t, and couldn’t be traced back to the ILF. 

And that was how he came to be in orbit around Earth, cloaked, while on a communication line talking to both Zixx, and the contact on Andrellion 5. 

Zixx was wearing his usual, cape haphazardly thrown to one side of the chair that he was sitting on, chin resting on one hand, not too interested in the meeting. Then again, when was Zixx ever really interested in anything while not actually on the ground at work on a mission? Never, that was the answer. Never.

Traximus didn’t like Zixx, not in the slightest. If Raphael knew him, was sure they would agree on not liking the merc. 

The contact on Andrellion 5 wasn’t on screen, instead was just a black screen with a distorted voice coming through. The contact wanted to make sure of his anonymity.

“Listen you two, I’ve just received news that she caused a major riot for her current owner. This will be the second time, the last time this happened her master was killed by a stray plasma bolt. She didn’t get that lucky this time, and that means good and bad news,” explained the contact.

“Bad news first,” Zixx flicked his fingers on an imaginary spot of dust on his shirt. 

“It means that the next time she’s transferred to a different owner, they’ll most likely use the new micro chipping method to keep her inline. This means that the good news is that he’s going to try and sell her, but no one is going to buy a slave that has had two previous masters,” the distorted voice explained.

“Then how are we supposed to get her off planet under a new owner?” Traximus asked. For a slave to go off-world, they had to be transported with a owner, otherwise the slave was considered a runaway. Runaway’s had huge bounties, whether or not they were returned to their master. 

“Easy,” said Zixx. “The 27th Annual Planetary Race is going to be held soon. I’ll infiltrate the gang, and get word to the leader’s ear that he can always volunteer the girl as the big winning door prize this year. He can do that without losing face, and gaining some prestige for being generous. Meanwhile, me and Trax will rig the system so that one of us wins her, we transport her off planet, and find somewhere else for her to live. It’s that simple,” Zixx gave a smirk.

“That’s quite clever,” the contact responded, “but are you sure you can do it?”

“Please,” Zixx waved a hand, “I’ve pulled off harder things with no back up before. With two people helping me out? It’ll be a cinch.”

“I agree with his plan,” Traximus, grudgingly nodded. “It should be a simple enough operation.”

“I see,” the contact murmured, before continuing. “Traximus, I would advice you to bring some others with you, as back up. I would be very surprised if you didn’t run into trouble at some point on the planet. Having others with you will be safer, and also lower suspicions, as it is extremely uncommon for just one person to go to an even like the races. Bringing friends along will help you to remain unnoticed.”

“Don’t worry,” Traximus assured them, “I already have some people in mind.”


	2. Check to Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally finished up, Zixx does most the work, and everything is ready. Now that these two chapters are up, I can start the real story in part two.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

The lights inside a run-down club flickered dimly to the beat of some heavy metal song, smoke from cigarettes and a few other suspicious drugs hung in the air like lingering ghosts. The bar tender glared at the costumers while mixing glowing liquids in musty glasses that had seen better days. Several people sitting in booths looked near comatose, eyes glazed over with the fog of drugs or booze, or other drinks that illicited the same kind of response. The floors had debris littered all around mixed with what could be mistaken for glitter. 

Zixx hated it. He was used to slums and questionable places, but the thing that he hated most was the loud music. He could hardly hear himself think. But he endured it, knowing that his ‘meeting’ was scheduled to happen there in about another five minutes. So far, he figured that the other guy was a no-show, but he wasn’t about to leave until the designated time. 

Five minutes in the unpleasant club scene trickled past. 

And then his target walked in.

His ‘client’ was a tall humanoid, well-built but not body-builder muscled. His skin was a dark emerald green, with three tattooed rings around his bicep on his left arm, one orange, one neon yellow, and one red. The gang trifecta, from what Zixx had gathered. Orange for cunning, yellow for guts, and red for strength. The eyes the humanoid had glowed a sinister purple, slits for pupils. He had four fingers in total on each hand, with twin horns on the crown of his head, the right one broken off about halfway. All in all, he was a mean looking guy. Too bad for him Zixx dealt with those kind of people all the time, and wasn’t intimidated.

The green-skinned humanoid saw Zixx at a corner booth and slid in opposite him, moving with a predator’s grace. He was used to being in charge, and someone who had the nerve to propose meeting him in a public place to give him tips on how to get rid of a troublesome slave was the last thing he wanted to be caught doing. It would utterly ruin his street rep if word got out.

“Zixx.”

“Mob boss Trentax. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Zixx smirked.

“Hmph. Whatever. I’m here strictly on business,” Trentax began. “You said you have a way for me to get rid of a troublesome…problem, without me losing face.”

“Yeah, I got a few brilliant ideas, but there’s one way that you can get rid of her, with everyone knowing that you’re getting rid of her. See, it all depends on the, let’s say, style you get rid of her.”

“And how,” Trentax growled out, “would I go about doing that?”

“The 27th planetary race is going to take place in Supreme Central, three days from now. And I happen to have an ear to the ground, and as it turns out, they haven’t acquired a grand prize for the door prizes yet. So my idea is simple, easy, and elegant. You, Trentax, graciously offer up a slave for the grand prize. She’ll be passed on, and be someone else’s problem, while you will be considered a generous donator. It’ll be public, yes, but everyone will be awed by your charitable gift that no one will call you on it.”

Trentax scowled at the other throughout his explanation, and grew thoughtful towards the end. 

“That simple?”

“It’s that easy. If someone gives you a hard time about it, tell them to donate their top-slave to the race next year,” Zixx replied, picking up his own drink and taking a swig.

At that moment, a goon of Trentax’s came inside, and walked over to the booth they were sitting in, and leaned forward to quietly inform his boss of something. Trentax nodded, and then moved to rise from his seat.

“It seems urgent business has appeared elsewhere.”

“Then,” Zixx put his drink down, and laid a few bills on the table, “we’re done here.”

“And in exchange for this advice, what did you want?” Trentax’s amethyst eyes narrowed at the merc, flashing dangerously.

“I want to be able to call in a favor from you or your men. It might be soon, it might be years from now, I just want you to owe me one,” Zixx gave an easy, friendly grin.

Too bad it didn’t work on Trentax.

“I see. In that case, when the time comes, I’ll be ready,” Trentax gave the strange man one last look before leaving the club.

One thought was on Zixx’s mind.

_Hook, line, and sinker, sucker!_

 

A couple of hours later, Zixx was comfortably sitting in his ship, hacking the main frame of the company that hosted the planet races, reviewing the information of already-sold tickets. 

Through a complicated bit of hacking, he set up a quiet virus that would allow him to program what prize went to what ticket holder. Traximus had purchased five tickets, and he needed to know what numbers they were.

He pinged the communication line of the Traximus’ ship, sending a short message of universal glyphs.

Shortly, another ping came back, listing all the numbers of the tickets the Triceraton had in his possession. 

Picking the one at the top of the list, Zixx chose this one as the ticket that would win the girl, nick-named Ruby. Somehow, her current owner managed to delete her real name from the system. That in and of itself was strange.  
Slave records were incredibly important, without them you couldn’t track the history of a slave, and without it, you would have a hard time finding a buyer, in the case that you wanted to sell.

It made Zixx raise his eyebrow, but it didn’t matter: the set up was finally done. 

After carefully checking that the virus would be virtually undetectable, he closed the screen. 

He activated the ping system once more, sending the same message to two people.

_We’re golden. Operation Rescue is a go._


End file.
